


A Man After Midnight

by Jantique



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Anytime Jack and Daniel are both with SG-1, First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The music throbbed as the lights strobed. Faces were flickers, suddenly lit then swallowed again by the darkness. Jack thought of a forgotten quotation, <i>‘How shall we tell the dancer from the dance?</i>’ Suddenly, like a roulette wheel stopping on a winning number, the spotlight caught a face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> The line “the dancer from the dance” is by Emerson. The song “Gimme, Gimme, Gimme” is by ABBA.

The music throbbed as the lights strobed. Faces were flickers, suddenly lit then swallowed again by the darkness. Jack thought of a forgotten quotation, ‘ _How shall we tell the dancer from the dance?_ ’ Suddenly, like a roulette wheel stopping on a winning number, the spotlight caught a face.

 

 

EARLIER:

 

The night air was cool and refreshing. Jack rolled the windows down as he drove from the Springs to Denver. It was Saturday night, and nowhere he needed to be till 0800 Monday morning.

 

He loved his team, but a man had needs. It had been far too long, just him and his right hand. It wasn’t safe to go to a gay bar in Colorado Springs, but Denver should be safe. He needed some distraction, something to take him outside himself. Something to take his thoughts off his team—in particular, one team member who occupied his thoughts all too frequently. Inappropriately. Whatever. Bottom line, he needed to get out.

 

When he reached the city, he parked and walked over to a club. Even from outside, he could hear the pounding beat of the music. He sighed. He paid the fee and went in, gratefully picking up a pair of sponge earplugs from the bowl by the door. (And a couple of condoms from the _other_ bowl. Just in case he got lucky.) When he pushed his way through to the main room, men filled the dance floor and crowded around the bar. Lighting was low, except for spotlights casting tiny pools of light on the floor, and on the dancers. The bar was somewhat better lit, albeit with blue lights. Jack got a longneck, leaned back against a corner of the bar, and looked around.  Most of the men he saw were younger than he was looking for, in their twenties or thirties (and some looked like jailbait), but there were a few who were older, his age or nearly. Some of the men at the bar were obviously together, but there were plenty who were giving the crowd the same appraising glances he was. Some of them appraising _him_.

 

Jack was in no hurry. He’d just gotten here. For now he was content to drink his beer and scan the throng, seeing what—who—was available. He would find someone, eventually. It didn’t have to be someone perfect. Just someone to temporarily take his mind off other … things.

 

Jack was on his second beer, having politely shaken off a couple of questioning looks, and one or two more forthright invitations, when a stranger came over and asked, “Buy you another?” Jack automatically started to shake his head no, then stopped and looked. Just a little shorter than himself, medium length brown hair, blue eyes—yes, he would do. He would do very well. The face was all wrong, of course—Jack shut down that line of thinking fast. He was going to have sex with a _stranger_ , that was all it was, and he wasn’t going to look at the guy’s _face_. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t call out the wrong name.

 

So Jack nodded. “Sure, why not?”  His new acquaintance put out his hand and said, “David.” Jack shook it and said, “Jack.” Pleasantries aside, he got down to business. “Do you live around here?” It would be handy if David had a place they could go to.

 

“Yeah, not too far. You?”

 

“No, I’m from … out of town.” David smiled slightly, probably guessing that Jack was military and from the Springs, but too polite to mention it. He only said, “We can go to my place, if you’d like.”

 

Jack nodded. “Yeah, that would be good.” He put his bottle on the bar. Just then, David’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.

 

“Shit! I _have_ to take this, I’m sorry. I’ll be back in five, okay? Don’t move?” It was a plea rather than a command.

 

Jack waved him away. “No problem, I’m good. Go ahead.”

 

David vanished into the crowd, searching for a quiet place to talk. Jack leaned back against the bar and idly watched the dancers again. He momentarily indulged in a fantasy:  Daniel was out on the dance floor, their eyes would meet—oh, who was he kidding? Never mind that Daniel was A) straight, and B) not interested in Jack, but C) Daniel wouldn’t be caught dead in a club like this. A museum or a bookstore, maybe a coffeehouse. But here, dancing to techno-crap? No way! Speaking of which, instead of the electronic noise, the DJ was playing something—not quieter, but more musical. Hey, he knew this song!

 

 _Half past twelve_  
And I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone  
How I hate to spend the evening on my own

  
Then the spotlight stopped moving, the dancers froze, and all Jack could see was a face, lit by a beam of artificial moonlight. Caught in the spotlight, the man writhed, his head flung back with abandon, showing his long neck, dark stubble on his cheeks, piercing blue eyes—Jack gasped.

 

 _Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight_  
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away  
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight  
Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

The dancers moved, the face was lost, the spell was broken. But Jack stared into the dark, seething mass until he felt a hand on his arm. He turned, startled.

 

“Sorry about that. But we can go now, if you’d like.”

 

What’s-his—David, right. Just no. “Sorry, but I saw someone—a friend. Umm, sorry.”

 

David shrugged, nodded, and left. The night was young. He’d find someone else.

 

Meanwhile, Jack took a deep breath, then another. He had to know for sure. He pushed through the crowd, looking for a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There were several, always the wrong one. Finally he saw a profile against the wall, and he _knew_.

 

“Da—“, he croaked. He coughed, tried again. “Daniel?”

 

Daniel turned casually, hearing his name, not yet identifying the voice. He froze when he saw Jack. Jack smiled hesitantly.

 

“Hey, fancy meeting you here.”

 

Daniel’s eyes darted left and right, but no one was watching.  “Jack!”, he hissed. “What are you _doing_ here?”

 

A hundred answers passed through Jack’s mind, 99 of them evasions or outright lies. He took a deep breath.

 

“Actually, I, um, I was looking to get laid.” Super-deep breath. “Actually, I was looking for someone who looks like you.”

 

“You—huh? Why?” Daniel was flabbergasted by the first statement and could barely process the second.

 

Jack stared into his eyes, the only way he could get through this. “Because I couldn’t have _you_. Because I thought you were straight, and not interested, and—listen, if you’re not interested, just say so and I’ll go away. But if you are—interested—Daniel, I lo—want you, I’ve wanted you for years.”

 

Blue eyes bore into brown, weighing his statement, judging its worth. Finally, Daniel solemnly nodded, accepting it as truth. Then he smiled brilliantly, and lit up the club brighter than the sun. He took Jack’s hand.

 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

 

Jack smiled tremulously, held Daniel’s hand tightly, and went. He knew they needed to talk. It wasn’t a happy ending. But it was, perhaps, a hopeful beginning. He was a sucker for hopeful beginnings. And he had his very own man after midnight—and hopefully, into the dawn.

 

~ ~ ~

 


End file.
